


a walk in the snow (A Kimura/Goro Drabble Collection)

by tsuristyle



Category: SMAP
Genre: Fine bandmates deserve fine wine, Goro's break, Kissing in the Snow, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 13:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8919802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuristyle/pseuds/tsuristyle
Summary: More Kimura/Goro drabbles, 2010 to 2012.a walk in the snow (388 words, PG)Coincidence (188 words, G)Promise (194 words, G)Dating (422 words, G)





	1. a walk in the snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Written for a prompt, February 2012.)

Let's go for a walk, Kimura says, before dawn.  
  
Snow swirls around them, catching on their sleeves, brushing their cheeks in gentle flurries. The world outside is buried in white, muting everything in softness; the only thing Kimura can hear is the sound of their breaths and the crunch of the slowly-accumulating layers underfoot. It's as though he and Goro are the only ones left in the world, the only ones remaining to disturb the newfallen silence. He wanders into a park, forging a path through the untouched drifts, and Goro follows quietly behind, stepping in his footprints.  
  
The cold air finds its way into his sleeves and under his collar, seeping through his shoes to nip at his toes. Kimura stops in the middle of the park and looks up at the paling sky, blinking as snowflakes catch on his eyelashes, and breathes in deeply until the crispness of the air seems to fill his entire body. None of it quite feels real yet, like he's still standing outside Goro's door with a bottle of wine and a confession tying itself in knots on his tongue.  
  
It's so quiet, Goro says softly. Kimura looks back at him; his bandmate is gazing up at the sky as well, hands tucked in his coat pockets, smiling in wonder at the dancing flakes. The scarf wrapped loosely around his neck has slipped down, exposing his skin to the breeze, and the breath he lets out is visible in the early morning light.  
  
Kimura reaches out to fix the scarf, pulling his bandmate close. Aren't you cold?  
  
Goro looks steadily into his eyes, a smile still playing on his lips. No.  
  
Kimura slips his hands into Goro's pockets, lacing their fingers together, and kisses him. Snow settles on their shoulders, in their hair, but Goro's breath is warm and his fingers are curled around Kimura's, reassuringly tight with promise. Everything is real; there is a bed waiting for them back in his apartment, blankets still tangled in the shape of their bodies.  
  
Kimura presses closer, and murmurs in his bandmate's ear. Aren't you cold?  
  
Goro leans into him with a shiver. Yes, he breathes.  
  
Let's go home, Kimura says, and soon the world is silent again; only the whisper of snowflakes remains, gently swirling down to fill in their empty footsteps.


	2. Coincidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by rz_jocelyn's fic All He Had, March 2010.)

When Kimura jumped backwards out of the way of a staff member, Goro just happened to be standing behind him, and he just happened to stumble and fall back into the younger man's arms. No one would doubt, as he turned to apologize to his bandmate, that it was anything but a coincidence, a moment of uncharacteristic clumsiness saved by the other man's presence.  
  
Kimura didn't wait for coincidences.  
  
He smiled at Goro sheepishly, resting his hand on his bandmate's shoulder for balance as he pulled away. It was a perfectly timed moment, a sudden instant of closeness in which it was entirely natural that his bandmate should reach out and touch him. If Goro noticed the way he leaned, ever-so-slightly, into the hand that lingered quietly on his hip, he wrote it off as a figment of his own guilty imagination-- Kimura could never return the desire the younger man tried so desperately to hide.  
  
It was true; he couldn't. All Kimura could do was make his own coincidences, each stolen encounter an unspoken apology for a promise he couldn't give.  
  
It was all he could do.


	3. Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Written August 2010.)

Kimura is watching the first four-member Bistro when his phone rings. "Hello?"  
  
"It's Goro."  
  
He sits up on the couch, turning the volume down. "Hey. Doing okay?"  
  
"Yeah." Goro's voice seems faint on the other end.  
  
"What're you doing?"  
  
"Sitting on the counter."  
  
Kimura frowns. "Why?"  
  
"There's food all over the floor." Goro laughs shakily. "I dropped my dinner."  
  
In the background, Kimura can just barely hear familiar voices echoing from Goro's television. His bandmate isn't particularly clumsy. "Are you hurt?"  
  
"No." Goro draws a sharp, shallow breath, and then he isn't laughing anymore, he's crying. "No," he says again, hiccuping.  
  
Kimura listens helplessly, trying to think of something to say. He needs to be there, to step through the mess on the floor and pull Goro into a hug, to say everything by letting his bandmate cry into his chest. But he can't.  
  
"I'm waiting for you," he says, and his voice sounds strange in his own ears. "We all are. We're not going anywhere without you."  
  
Goro breathes shakily, trying to control his sobs. "Promise?"  
  
"Yeah," Kimura says. It's a promise that's not in his power to make, but he doesn't care.


	4. Dating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Written November 2010.)

They go out together once a week, and tonight is no exception. Goro always has a new restaurant he wants to try, where the food rivals what they make on Bistro and the wine list is longer than the menu itself, and Kimura sees it as something of a challenge to guess how each elegantly-arranged dish was made. Afterwards, they'll rent a movie and watch it at Goro's place, where the younger man will inevitably fall asleep on the couch about two-thirds of the way through. Kimura has let himself out more times than not, a blanket draped over his bandmate's sleeping form and the events of the movie still running through his head as he inhales the cool night air. Tonight will be no different.  
  
But Kimura is halfway through his steak, listening to Goro chatter happily about vintages and grapes, when it occurs to him that they are, to all effects, _dating_. It's a ridiculous thought-- he's 37, after all, and not in a position to be thinking about that sort of thing anyway-- but it still makes him pause. The two of them resemble nothing so much as the well-dressed couples around them, the same idle conversation, the same comfortable familiarity, the same unspoken fondness unconsciously coloring every moment. And even though he can't say it, he can't deny how dear his bandmate is to him.  
  
Something in his face must have changed, because Goro looks at him oddly. "Everything alright?"  
  
Kimura takes a sip of wine-- Cabernet Sauvignon, 1986 St-Estephe Bordeaux-- and nods. "Yeah."  
  
Later, the credits are scrolling and his bandmate is curled up against the pillows, breathing softly, so Kimura turns off the TV and pulls the blanket from the back of the couch, like always. But he pauses as he arranges it around the younger man; maybe, tonight can be just a little bit different. After all, even if nothing changes, even if nothing _can_ change, what good is a revelation if you don't act on it?  
  
So, impulsively, he leans down and kisses Goro's forehead. His bandmate's breathing seems to catch for a moment, but Kimura simply finishes tucking the blanket around him and slips out the door, like always. It's just different enough; that's all he needs.   
  
And, he reflects as he steps outside, glancing up at the night sky, he doesn't _want_ anything to change anyway. His bandmate is sleeping peacefully, and he has two beautiful daughters waiting to be tucked in at home. Everything _is_ alright-- just the way it is.


End file.
